Naissance
by The Readers Muse
Summary: It wasn't until later that she understood. If this was a surrender, it would always be mutual.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own "The Blacklist" or any of its characters, wishful thinking aside.

 **Authors Note #1:** Part 1 of the "Blacklist Sentinel and Guide" AU series. I love the Sentinel/Guide trope so here we are. Raymond is a Sentinel: (a person with enhanced senses) And Lizzie is his Guide: (a person who helps a Sentinel control their gifts and keep them from 'zoning' or hyper-focusing on one sense and thus vulnerable.) The connection or bond between a Sentinel and Guide is a soul deep and almost spiritual thing that is generally considered pre-destined. Much like the soul-bond/one-love trope. *In this version Sentinels don't come online until they meet their Guide, the person best suited to help them balance these abilities – essentially the other half of their soul.

 **Warnings:** sentinel/guide, bonding, dubious consent, sexual content, drama, romance, angst au on 1x01, animal traits.

 **Naissance**

" _Agent Keen, what a pleasure."_

" _Well, I'm here."_

" _You got rid of your highlights."_

" _You look much less Baltimore."_

" _Do you get back home much?"_

" _Tell me about Zamani."_

" _I haven't been home in years."_

She felt the shift - _felt him_ \- before she'd even settled in the chair. Crossing her legs on auto-pilot as he looked at her with a soft, welcoming smirk. Like the open pleasure he felt at her presence was something too precious for him to risk tipping his hand early with words.

She inhaled shakily.

He didn't know.

Not yet.

But he would, soon.

The realization was harsh. Harsh because it exonerated him, at least on some level. _This_ wasn't the reason he'd surrendered to the FBI and asked for her. This was about something else. Something that was going to get pushed to the back-burner as soon as he knew. As soon as he sensed her and realized what she was, she would go back to being a pawn.

Maybe.

Still, the narcissistic traits in her personality couldn't help but preen. Basking in the satisfaction of knowing something he didn't. Knowing it was self-harming as much as it would be short lived. Allowing herself to smile, flinty and small, anyway. Even as the underside of her skin started to itch. Wanting to touch. _Needing to touch._

He hadn't anticipated this.

Whatever game he'd come to play, this had been unintentional.

So much for his grand designs.

Because she knew he had them.

The Guide in her had been latent. Just as his Sentinel traits had been latent. Offline for their own protection. He'd been waiting for her, just as she'd been waiting for him. And now everything would change. Her entire life. His.

 _Her Sentinel._

He watched her with open interest. Slowly losing the razor edge he'd started with, without his consent. Sinking into the spaces between words, between breaths, between everything about her. Unknowingly reaching for her in every way he could as the Sentinel slowly came online.

 _"_ _Why involve me? I'm nobody._ _It's my first day. N_ _othin' special about me."_

" _Oh, I think you're very special."_

Bits and pieces of her Guide training filtered back as he spoke. Trying to ignore the thrill his praise ushered in as she fought the urge to move closer. Knowing it wouldn't be long until everything came crashing down. Until she wouldn't be able to help herself. But for now, she wanted to hold back- to hold on for as long as she could. Just as a point of pride. Punishing him. Punishing herself. Caught between hating and being desperate for him as she remembered the standard, month-long course after she'd tested positive for the Guide gene in high school. Unsure of what to think when she realized what was happening now was almost textbook.

 _…A Guide will come onto their abilities and be able to recognize their Sentinel immediately. Often before their Sentinel recognizes them. This gives the Guide time to start the bonding process and ensure their Sentinel will not zone out as their system starts to undergo the necessary changes to enhance their senses…_

She exhaled shakily, drawing his attention. A light frown creasing the skin between his eyes, too well controlled to express anything else. Watching her closely as she looked around with growing dread. Nothing was ideal. Not the location. Not the containment cube. There was nothing Sentinel-friendly here. Not even the lights. There might be some white noise generators in storage but that would be about it. Worse, he was restrained. He needed to be free. Free to move. Free to feel her. How was she going to explain this to the Director? _Shit._

 _…Expect your Sentinel to be confused at first. There will be a rush of hormones, more dramatic changes happen for them almost immediately. Their senses will be fragile and their chance of zoning is at it's highest. As a Guide – as their Guide - you will feel compelled to sooth them in any way you can. Please remember that while the bonding process is different for each pair, there are key similarities in every case. First and foremost, a bonding always includes sexual contact. You will be compelled to join with your Sentinel in every way. Sex is a key part of the bonding process, so be aware of…_

The woman teaching the class had been a bonded Guide. And the day she'd taught that section, she'd worn an oval-neck blouse that'd shown off her bonding bite. Sending the class into titters periodically as she smiled serenely. Waiting until the end before kindly reminding them that ninety-five percent of all bondings occurred in a controlled environment. Like the mixers and meet-ups hosted by pretty much every organization out there. Telling them that the so called 'horror stories' of bondings gone wrong - getting stuck in a public place when you met your Sentinel – were in the minority. In all likelihood, a bonding room would be only meters away.

She'd gone to every one of those mixers.

Every single one.

And she'd always left alone.

Now she knew why.

 _He'd been off building his god damned empire._

She laughed. It wasn't a nice sound. It was low and angry as she clenched her fists in a vicious grip. Swearing she could feel it as her protestations slowly filtered out of her. Leaving her open, vulnerable, hopeful. It was enough to make her sick. Fighting the urge of duck away and vomit just as much as the Guide in her was rearing its head for the first time. Trying to make her understand that it was different now, fated.

That it could be good.

 _That it would be good._

That deep down, she wanted it to be.

 _Just like him._

She shook her head.

Thinking about Tom and the adoption.

How everything was ruined.

 _Different._

Raymond Reddington was her Sentinel.

How the hell was that even possible?

… _As you can see from the video, despite being at the very beginning of the bonding process, his Sentinel is already watching him from across the room. She is absolutely fixed on him. She doesn't understand why, not yet, but she is drawn to him all the same. This is a classic example of the most primitive Sentinel behavior and perhaps one of the most obvious signs of an oncoming bonding. It will get easier to recognize as you come into your abilities. But for now, consider it an exercise in observation…_

She looked up, hands clasped tightly in her lap, breathless as his eyes met hers. Searching her face as he twitched against his bonds. Restless. So very different from his body language in the beginning that it made her swallow hard. Forcing her to admit the point she'd inadvertently made in the beginning.

He didn't know.

Hell, he still didn't even have a clue.

He was far from innocent. But in this? He was blameless.

 _Christ_.

"Lizzie, are you alright?"

Her head came up, because it was familiar. Not just the words and the cadence behind them, but something more. Something buried deep in her oldest memories. The ones she'd told herself couldn't be real. The ones that remembered fire and pain. But most of all, a man. The man who'd carried her out of the flames. Holding her close even as the flames licked down his clothes and stung smoke so thick she'd hid her face in his neck. Reassured by the pounding of his heart against her cheek.

It was the last time she'd felt safe.

Truly safe.

Until now.

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Feeling something shift inside her ribcage. Bearing witness to the darkest parts of her heart, the parts still burnt and shrivelled, bud unexpectedly with new growth.

She didn't know how, or why, but he'd saved her.

And now he was back.

Now, he needed her.

She was on her feet before she'd even registered getting up. Smiling, graceful and predatory, as he stilled below her. Body language immediately on point as she watched his throat itch through a swallow.

 _Could he feel it?_

"You've kept me waiting," she whispered, ignoring the murmur of confusion coming from the ear-piece as she removed it and let it drop to the floor at his feet. Enjoying his confusion as she crouched down in front of him. So close that if either of them moved, their hands would brush.

He didn't.

And for some reason, that pleased her.

Setting the stage for a future she wasn't prepared to think about.

Not yet.

But she did know it could be good.

 _And that? That was everything._

His nostrils flared when she leaned in. Watching it happen in real time as all the parts he kept hidden from everyone else, opened for her willingly. Every inch of him undeniably hers as instinct made him lean forward, inhaling unevenly. Eyes darting from her face to her lips, frantically trying to understand why.

It was all there on his face.

She allowed her fingers to stretch. Gently. Carefully. Feeling their connection spool out like explosive pleasure when they finally met. Resting her hand on top of his like the flare of a wing. All the little hairs prickling. Breath catching in her throat as his head snapped back, eyes blowing wide. Throat working – _shaking_ \- like just the barest touch was too much.

After that, she couldn't fight it.

The pull- the draw- _the_ _need_ to be with him was too strong. Finding herself clambering into his lap as he remained tightly restrained. Answering his base growl with a rumble of her own as she fought against gravity, against everything that was keeping them apart, to keep him tethered to her.

* * *

But, still, she held tight to that small little victory.

Basking in the secret satisfaction that no matter what happened next, she'd won.

The Guide always did.

* * *

It wasn't until later that she understood.

If this was a surrender, it would always be mutual.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think. There will be more to this series.

 **Reference:**

\- Naissance: a birth, an origination, or a growth, as that of a person, an organization, an idea, or a movement.


End file.
